


The Prisoners' Dilemma

by Austalis



Series: Philosophy and Game Theory Themed Sex Games [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, PWP, Philosophy Themed Sex Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 03:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austalis/pseuds/Austalis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik turns The Prisoner's Dilemma into a sex game. He and Charles ty it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prisoners' Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mark/gifts), [Hannah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannah/gifts), [Jo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jo).



> One of my amazing friends came up with the sex rules, not I, but here's a summary of the traditional Prisoners' Dilemma:
> 
> "Two members of a criminal gang are arrested and imprisoned. Each prisoner is in solitary confinement with no means of speaking to or exchanging messages with the other. The police admit they don't have enough evidence to convict the pair on the principal charge. They plan to sentence both to a year in prison on a lesser charge. Simultaneously, the police offer each prisoner a Faustian bargain. If he testifies against his partner, he will go free while the partner will get three years in prison on the main charge. Oh, yes, there is a catch ... If both prisoners testify against each other, both will be sentenced to two years in jail."- Poundstone, 1992

“I’ve been thinking,” said Erik. It was evening in the Xavier Mansion. The students were all out, and they were curled up at opposite ends of a sofa, feet tangled together.

“Mmm?” enquired Charles from behind his paper.

“I think I’ve found a way to engage your brain during sex.”

“My brain is always engaged during sex!” Charles made a half-hearted effort at “affronted”, eyes never leaving the journal.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Erik laid aside his book and climbed awkwardly across the sofa. Several uncomfortable positions later, Erik laid his head triumphantly on Charles’ collar bone, their bodies cuddled together like spoons. Charles shifted good-naturedly and planted a kiss on his temple.

“What do you suggest, then?”

  
“The Prisoners’ Dilemma: sex version.”

“Go on,” said Charles, interest catching.

“Well,” Erik twisted to look up at him, shark-like grin flashing across his face. “The pair proceed through four phases: kissing, touching, oral stimulation and gross human intercourse. During each phase, one partner can suggest a move to the next phase, prompting a vote: “me” or “you”. If both vote for themselves, they remain in frustrating near-sexual contact for a short time. If both vote for the other, they remain in the phase for a fixed time. In the event of a me/you vote, they progress to the next stage, where they enact those votes. Except for the last stage, where the players must choose the other.”

“Sentimental,” remarked Charles.

“Only where you’re concerned.”

“But I’ll admit, the idea has me intrigued. When do you suggest we try it?”

“Now? The students are our, the house is ours,” Erik practically purred, reaching for the journal and taking it from Charles’ unresisting hands. “After all,” he added, words interspersed with quick, light kisses, “When are we next going to have the opportunity?”

Charles acquiesced almost immediately turning his head so their mouths met in a rush of heat and lust. Erik brought his hands up behind Charles’ head, fondled the curve of his skull, the delicate shape of his ears, the smooth line of his jaw. Charles, underneath, slid his hands beneath Erik’s jacket, began easing it off his shoulders.

 “Ah-ah,” chided Erik, breath hot against his face, “undressing comes in the next phase.”

“Removing your jacket _hardly_ counts as undressing,” protested Charles. Erik shrugged the jacket off in assent, allowing Charles’ hands to explore the hard muscles of his back: old, familiar territory.

After a few minutes, Erik’s kisses grew more urgent, his hands tugging ever so slightly harder at Charles’ hair.

“Ready to vote?” he asked, feeling rather than seeing Charles nod. “On three then, one, two, three.” 

“You,” voted Charles.

“You,” echoed Erik, a fraction of a second later. He held back a laugh, tucked his head under Charles’ chin and inhaled. “Shall we continue in the bedroom?”

They stumbled through the mansion, pausing to kiss against walls, in door frames, and on the stairs.

“I think,” said Charles, as they lay on the bed, “that constitutes another vote, don’t you agree?”

“On three, then. One, two, three.”

“You,” offered Charles.

“Me,” rejoined Erik.

Charles rolled over him, hands reaching for the buttons of Erik’s shirt. Erik moved to reciprocate, but Charles tutted him away. In a few moments their torsos were bare, and Charles ran his hands across Erik’s chest. He tweaked each of the nipples with a fingertip, then bent his head to take one into his mouth, feeling the muscles contract into a tight nub. Charles licked and sucked, responding to Erik’s shifting beneath him.

They kissed again, and Charles reached for Erik’s trousers, fiddling momentarily with the fastenings then pulling them off. He dipped his hand into Erik’s shorts, eased his cock free before discarding them along with his own remaining clothes. Charles stroked it, gently, the rhythm matching his thrusts against Erik’s side. Their warm bodies collided gently again and again as Charles increased his pace. Faster and faster until,

“Charles! Vote!” commanded Erik.

“Me.”

“You,” Erik answered. He rolled Charles off him and dragged him to the edge of the bed, nudging his knees apart and then knelt down. Erik ran his lips across Charles’ cock, his mouth closed, his breathing soft against the warm skin.“Ready Charles?”

Charles nodded, not quite trusting his voice at the sight of Erik’s head between his thighs. Erik chuckled, low in his throat. He ran his hand down the shaft once, twice, then guided it into his mouth. He hummed gently to himself as he traced simple patterns with his tongue on the underside of Charles’ cock. Charles flopped backwards on the bed, hips twitching forward as Erik ran his mouth down, taking in the whole organ for several long seconds. Charles strangled back a cry as Erik rocked back, choking very slightly around his gag reflex. His hands crept forwards, bracing himself against Charles’ thighs, one slipping forwards to fondle his testicles, rolling first one then the other in his palm. Charles’ hands slid through Erik’s short hair. Erik wrapped his hand around the base of Charles’ cock, jerked it a few times while his tongue swirled in a complex motion around the head.

“Erik, Erik, I-” gasped Charles.

Erik hummed in response and reached up to grip Charles’ hand. He pulled his head back, dodging the thrust as Charles’ hips jerked forward in an abortive attempt to regain contact.

“On three, Charles.”

"I- Fuck-Erik..!”

“One, two…”

“Christ, Erik, don’t stop.”

“Three!”

“Me!” yelped Charles.

“Me,” said Erik, firmly. “Oh dear,” he continued, “We seem to find ourselves at an impasse.” His fingers ghosted across Charles’s inner thigh. “I suppose we’ll just have to stay like this.” He laid his cheek against the other thigh, blew a breath across Charles’ damp skin.

“ _Erik!_ ” Charles pleaded.

“You know the rules, Charles.” Erik breathed firmly across Charles’ skin, watching the ripple of goosebumps rising and falling. They stayed for what felt like hours, then Charles brought the hand back up to Erik’s face, stroked a thumb over his cheekbone and caressed the sensitive spot behind his ear. Erik sighed, turning his head into the touch.

“Ready to move on?” asked Charles, gently.

"Me,” replied Erik.

“You,” agreed Charles.          

Erik took his hand, got to his feet and clambered up onto the bed, hand still entwined with Charles’. They kissed quickly, almost chastely. Erik grabbed the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and Charles rearranged the pillows, propping his hips up with one. They kissed again, harder, bodies pressed together.

After a time, Erik poured lubricant on his hand, allowed it to warm slightly and then smeared it across their genitals, thrusting slickly against Charles’s cock. Charles dropped a hand between them, stroking and teasing, while crossing his ankles over the back of Erik’s thighs, holding him fast.  Erik kissed messily along the base of his jaw, nipping, licking and sucking, leaving red marks that faded slowly.

“Ready?” he asked, breathless.

“Yes,” hissed Charles, cold air sweeping across his torso as Erik sat up suddenly. More lubricant, and then his hand was reaching, teasing, playing with his balls before inching lower, gently massaging the tight ring of muscle. He slipped a finger through, slowly, up to the muscle and waited while Charles relaxed. He added a second and started up a slow, easy rhythm.  He sped up, rocking them faster until Charles gasped something incomprehensible.

“What was that?”

“I said you! You!” Charles squeaked.

“Well that’s good,” replied Erik, his shark smile back, “because I chose you, too.”

He took a second to prepare, then slid into Charles, slowly, torturously slowly, while Charles hissed and writhed and begged.  As their hips rocked together, Erik leaned down and kissed him on the end of his nose. Charles scowled.

“Tease,” he glowered.

“Harlot” Erik grinned, but obligingly he began to move, gathering pace, moving in time with the hand wrapped around Charles’ cock.  A quick skew of his hips sideways brought him into contact with Charles’ prostate, eliciting what was almost a howl. Erik shifted for better leverage, practically curling Charles up like an ammonite, and then suddenly it was over. He felt his orgasm slam into him, practically blinding him for a second, and then he was slipping free of Charles’ body, hand still wrapped around Charles’ cock. Charles had taken over, hand over Erik’s guiding him until Charles too came in hot, white spurts across his stomach.

 Charles wiped them ineffectually with part of the sheet, and pulled Erik into his arms.

“Sometimes,” he said, voice fuzzy with post-coital fog, “sometimes, I think you’re a genius.”

“The rest of the time, you know I am,” finished Erik.


End file.
